Go
by LoraLee2
Summary: Reid hs a problem. This is a bad!fic contest entry. Enjoy.


This is my entry for the ultimate "Criminal Minds Bad Fan Fic"- competition.

GO

8:07 a.m.

Reid sipped his coffee as casually as he could while listening to JJ go through the basic facts of the case. Hostage situation in an elementary school. The teacher's ex-husband had decided to break the restraining order against him "just to talk" and had rushed into her classroom this morning with a loaded gun. The teacher had a doctor's appointment that morning. George was not happy.

"All right, I want everybody in the cars now. JJ, make sure the plane's ready." Hotch stood up and headed for his office to grab his go bag.

Reid gulped the rest of his coffee - he was going to need all the sugar and caffeine he could get today - went to the closet where the rest of their go bags were stored and headed to the garage. He glanced longingly at the closed door on his way by.

8:43 a.m.

Reid fidgeted in his seat as the team tossed theories around on the best way to get the unsub out of the classroom without any of the kids getting hurt. They'd continued the briefing the minute the plane had hit cruising altitude. The wife had been pulled from the doctor's office and was waiting at the local police station. Time was of the essence, the unsub was unstable and everyone was worried that a room of six-year-olds would cause him to tip over the edge and become violent.

Reid knew that after an hour in there he would have run out of the building begging to be thrown in jail.

Emily got up and brought the coffee pot back to the center of the plane and refilled everyone's cups. Morgan didn't even tease Reid about how much sugar he poured in. The plane began to descend and Reid shut the blind on his window to block out the rain pouring down. He eyed the curtain to the galley and beyond as he fastened his seat belt; he couldn't wait to get to the station.

"JJ, Morgan and Prentiss, I want you at the station, interview the ex-wife, see if she knows what triggered this behavior. Rossi, I want you on negotiations. So, far he hasn't responded to calls on the intercom, but I want you to keep trying, plug into the building's announcement system. If he answers there's nobody better at talking these guys out.

"Reid, I want you watching his body language. Look for microtells, if he shows any signs that he's going to lose it, let Rossi know, he'll decide whether to give SWAT the go signal. Do not take your eyes off this guy once we get on scene." Reid nodded and crossed his legs as the plane touched down. It was a bumpy landing.

9:22 a.m.

Reid leaned on the hood of the SUV and planted the small binoculars to his eyes. Good thing he was wearing his contacts today, he hated trying to use binoculars with his glasses. The unsub was a small guy, short and thin, and despite the fact that the windows stretched the length of the entire wall he had little trouble managing to keep the substitute teacher between him and the window. Reid was able to see his face and left hand consistently though, he watched for ticks or twitches, anything that would indicate changes in stress levels. He'd done this before; he was good at it.

The team had discovered the skill the first time they'd played poker together a few months after he'd joined the team. Morgan had accused him of cheating for the first time and he'd defended himself by explaining that Hotch's eyes dilated when he had a good hand, Gideon's lips twitched, Morgan's left eyebrow raised an eighth of an inch and Haskell tapped his left pinky on his cards. Then he'd informed them that when they had bad hands Haskell stacked his cards, Morgan frowned, Gideon raised and Hotch's nostrils flared. He didn't tell them what his tells were, even though he knew exactly what they were.

Reid ignored the light rain falling on his head as he sensed Rossi place a coffee cup next to his elbow. The team might tease him mercilessly about his caffeine consumption, but they all knew exactly how much he needed it and exactly how he took it, just like he knew their needs. It was all teamwork. Prentiss had once joked that Reid and coffee go together like a door and a jamb. Reid had pointed out that that was strange analogy.

12:34

Reid ignored the water dripping from his hair into his left ear as he watched as the unsub pointed his gun towards the door that hid the bathroom. The substitute teacher had convinced the unsub hours ago that if he didn't want puddles all over the floor, he needed to let the little guys go to the bathroom. Rossi was ringing the room's intercom phone again. They had parabolic mics trained on the windows and some of the kids had started whining about lunch. Rossi was hoping the unsub would accept a food delivery. The local Burger King had sent over fifty Happy Meals when the manager had seen the news.

They couldn't drug the food because a dose that would put the unsub out of commission would kill the kids, but they could at least keep the kids comfortable. There was still hope of resolving the standoff peacefully and keeping the unsub calm was the best way to do that.

He was too busy monitoring the unsub to even notice when Hotch slipped up beside him and traded his empty coffee cup for a full one, placing a sandwich next to it. Reid's hand landed on the sandwich the next time he reached for his coffee. He was glad for the sustenance, maybe it would soak up a little of the burnt coffee.

4:19

Reid shifted subtly from one foot to the other as he heard JJ giving the press an update from behind him. The unsub wiped his brow with his right hand; his face was pinched in that special way that Reid had been waiting for. He whispered Rossi's name into his headset and waited for the older man to come over. "It's time. He's getting tired. His eyes are drooping, he's blinking more, and he just let out a big sigh. Call him again."

Rossi handed Reid a new cup of coffee and clapped him on the shoulder. "Good work, Kid. Just a little longer and we can all go home."

Neither man noticed the cameraman filming Reid's butt. That shot was going in his private, behind-closed-doors collection.

6:58

Reid sighed as he climbed into the back seat of the SUV with Prentiss. He leaned back and pulled the door closed behind him. "Hey, brought you a present." He cracked a lid open and smiled at the sight of the large cappuccino in her hand. Scene coffee was never good. It didn't matter how much sugar you put in, it still held the faint flavor of being brewed outdoors. Dirt might resemble coffee grounds, but it sure didn't taste the same.

He smiled for the first time that day as he removed the lid and sipped.

"What is that, Kid, your fifteenth cup today?"

"No idea. How long till we get to the station?"

"Should be there in about ten minutes."

Rossi turned in his seat, "Why you got someplace you need to go?"

"Just curious."

7:22

Morgan pulled up outside the station and drove around the parking lot three times looking for a spot that wasn't taken by one of the locals or a media truck. He finally headed back out to the street and found a spot about a hundred yard from the doors of the station. Reid barely waited till the vehicle was parked before he jumped out and throwing his empty cup into a trashcan on the sidewalk sprinted to the front doors of the station. Morgan and Prentiss looked at each other, looked at Rossi who said, "Now, what the hell is that about?"

Morgan and Prentiss shrugged. Morgan responded, "Dunno, but apparently he knows where he's going."

7:22:30

Reid burst through the station doors and scanned the room. He nearly wept when he spotted the door he was looking for on the other side of the crowded room. "Excuse me." " Sorry." "Pardon me." "Sorry." He danced across the room, apologizing in a rush as he rushed to the other side of the room. Finally he reached his goal, only to be thwarted by a "closed for repairs" sign. It pointed towards a hallway that ended in a stairway. He took the stairs going up them three at a time in his quest. He rushed down the hall until he found the doorway he as looking for. He ripped it open and spied his goal.

Desperate, his fingers fumbled as he crossed the room. He planted his feet firmly when he finally reached his goal, and peed.

And peed. And peed. And peed.


End file.
